


I'm Still Breathing

by DontTouchTheSun



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics)
Genre: Cassandra Cain-centric, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, cassandra cain deserves a hug, she gets a hug!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 16:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21449071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontTouchTheSun/pseuds/DontTouchTheSun
Summary: "You're fourteen and there’s blood on your hands. The knife’s on the ground and the body’s in front of you and your face is stained with tears."Cassandra Cain's life from age 3 to 21.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain & David Cain
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	I'm Still Breathing

**Author's Note:**

> This follows Rebirth canon, but I sprinkled in a few pre52 things.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated!

You're three and you've never heard a word. Your mother tongue is movement. Every action He makes screams a meaning to you. One hand gesture is stop, another is move, and when you fail He raises a fist and you struggle to not tense as it comes down. You're too young to long for another way of knowing or another life. 

You're four and you sneak away, catching a glimpse of Her and other kids. They wrap their arms around each other and they look so happy but you don’t know why. You try imitating it but the teacher lady pushes you away. “No. Never.” It felt so nice but you don’t do it again.

You're five and you watch as the glistening pool stains your white shoes red. There's bile in your throat when you catch the eye of a boy two seconds before his throat is cut open. There's something in the way his body spasms and choked cries raise from his broken throat and you know it should hurt you too but you're too tired to care anymore.

You're seven and there's a searing burn in your leg as the bullet rips through. You flinch. You hope he doesn't notice but he always does and then there's a second river of blood crawling down your leg. You keep your eyes ahead, staring right at him, and hope to find some pride because you didn't flinch that time. He's not proud.

You’re nine and your body is a map of bruises and scars, some still pulling at your skin as you move and leaving you aching at night. But you never show your pain. You've been taught better than that. If you want his approval, you don't show anything but perfection.

You're ten and He slams you against the wall.

You're eleven and have seen the outside world briefly on a training trip. You see bright lights and books and families milling about as the sun sets and and you long for it, but He pulls you away and locks you up in a new training room in Gotham. You try not to think about the smiling people you saw out there.

You're twelve and you slam your foot down on a man’s arm. He screams and it breaks and you don’t care. There’s three other men on the ground and he should’ve known better than to reach for the knife. You step off and turn to Him, but he’s already turning and walking away.

You’re thirteen and with one word from Him you stop all your movements, body poised to attack but not moving till he says you can. To Him, you’re little more than a trained dog.

You're fourteen and there’s blood on your hands. The knife’s on the ground and the body’s in front of you and your face is stained with tears.

You're fifteen and you hear Her plan and it makes your blood run cold. You run and run and find the dark shadows that can help you. You feel warm. It is the first time someone has hugged you and his words will stay with you forever. And then he's gone. You do what he said and follow the plan and you don't need him when you have his partners but there's an emptiness he could've filled.

You're sixteen and you offer your life as atonement. You wouldn’t blame Harper for killing you, you know you deserve it after everything you did. You don’t understand when she spares your life and fights by your side but for a moment it makes you feel alive, like you’re worth something. That feeling turns to an ache you can’t explain when you watch Him plummet to his death, taking Her with Him. You shouldn’t feel anything for Him, He’s the villain, He made you kill Harper’s mother, but it’s like He took a piece of you when he died.

You’re seventeen and you still don’t understand why you’ve been given this chance. You want to do good, to atone, to be a hero but you can still see all the kill spots and more than once you nearly take it. Batman knows, he always knows, and you wish he’d just say something already because you don’t know how to please him and you feel like you’re drowning.

You’re eighteen and you finally understand who you are. There’s still guilt and a need to atone and buried deep down you still feel like your life in recompense is a valid exchange but after everything that’s happened and after the therapy sessions you understand and with the glimpse into what you were in a different universe you finally begin to grasp who you are. What you did wasn’t you, it was Him and everything He taught you. You don’t let Him rule your life anymore, you forget Him and you focus on your friends and your teammates and Batman.

You’re nineteen and you can finally read a book the entire way through, silently or out loud. It’s an accomplishment everyone else finds simple but you never thought you’d reach. You practically bounce with joy telling your friends and Batman. Batman even smiles, a rare occurrence. Dr. Thompkins had told you to find an identity outside of Orphan and this feels like the first step towards it. You didn’t understand the necessity for a secret identity before - your identity has always been a warrior - but you do now. You think that one day you’d like to go to school.

You’re twenty and for the first time in your life you don’t feel crushed by self hatred. You still don the mask and fight crime at night, because that’s a part of you and you could never leave it behind. You want to help people. But by day you have your own apartment and you’re taking classes to learn all the things Cain never taught you. When you have questions, Bruce and Babs and Dick are there and they never make you feel small. You’ve joined a ballet group, a professional though small one. And on your first performance, up in the reserved balcony you see your family.

You’re twenty-one and you celebrate your birthday surrounded by people who love you, who lift you up instead of shoving you don’t, who let you choose how to live your life. You giggle at the party hats Dick says everyone has to wear, even Bruce and Damian, and blow out the candles and away from everyone else you hug Bruce tightly, hoping to convey everything you feel in that one motion. And when he hugs you back, you feel safe and warm.


End file.
